


Show Me Your Eyes

by TaterChipGirl



Category: Pitch Black (2000)
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, F/F, F/M, Shazza lives
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2002-02-01
Updated: 2002-02-01
Packaged: 2018-05-28 13:54:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6331810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaterChipGirl/pseuds/TaterChipGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Freedom is what convicted murderer Richard B. Riddick desires above all else. Until he meets a certain transport captain. What will end up ruling him - his heart, or his instinct for survival?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Show Me Your Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> For those sensitive to rape/non-con: No actual rape occurs - just an attempt - and Riddick is not the rapist.
> 
> "Show Me Your Eyes" was my second fic. This is a complete rewrite of the original (poorly written) story. For those already familiar with it - you'll notice the differences, but the storyline itself hasn't changed. Picks up during Fry's interrogation of Riddick after Zeke's disappearance.
> 
> First published February 2002 on various archives.  
> I'm in the process of moving everything to AO3 from other archives.  
> The AO3 version is now the official version.  
> All versions posted on other archives are now obsolete.

"Show me your eyes, Riddick."

Fry stood by the metal stairs in the half-light, her gaze fixed on the shadowy, seated figure of the man chained to the opposite wall.

"You'd hafta come a lot closer for that." Riddick's tone was almost playful.

He knew she'd do it. He could tell by her voice and the way she moved that she wanted an excuse to be near him. A whiff of her sweat and musk wafted over to him.

She was ripe for it, this one. Like succulent fruit.

_Delicious._

Made him want to lick his lips. Maybe hers, too.

She hesitated a moment, then started moving carefully in his direction, stopping when she'd advanced about six feet or so. Not as close as she really wanted to be (but then, she wasn't supposed to want that).

"Closer."

Fry's mouth went dry, and her heart leaped in her chest. She had a hard time swallowing, but managed it somehow, shakily wiping her sweaty palms on her pants as she continued towards him. She realized with a shock that the idea of being this close to him was not entirely unpleasant. In fact, she was more excited than scared.

_He's dangerous. A killer. Keep your mind on the job, Fry._

She stopped where she thought she'd be just outside Riddick's reach, should he happen to feel like standing up.

As it happened, he did.

With a harsh, zipping burst of metallic noise, he launched himself out of his seat and lunged forward, leaning out over her as the chains pulled taut behind him.

Fry stumbled backwards with a yelp, finding her face about a foot away from his when she came to a stop. His silvery eyes glinted in the narrow strip of light that fell across his face from a gap somewhere high up in the ship's torn hull.

It was hard not to stare. She'd heard about this surgical procedure, but never actually seen anyone who'd had it done. The effect was actually quite beautiful, like a predatory animal caught in firelight.

"Where the hell can I get eyes like that?" Jack's envious voice came from the stairs.

Fry snapped her head around, surprised that he'd managed to sneak in without a sound.

"Gotta kill a few people," Riddick answered matter-of-factly.

"'Kay, I can do it," Jack said resolutely, stepping down to the floor and gazing admiringly at Riddick. His expression reminded Fry of a groupie fawning over a rock star.

Riddick continued, now looking at Fry, who had turned back to listen.

"Then you gotta get sent to a slam where they tell ya you'll never see daylight again. Ya dig up a doctor, ya pay him twenty menthol Kools to do a surgical shine job on your eyeballs - "

"So you can see who's sneakin' up on ya in the dark?" Jack prompted with a sly smile.

"Exactly," Riddick replied.

Fry turned back to Jack, annoyed at being interrupted.

"Leave," she said firmly.

Jack's face fell. He was not pleased with being shooed away from his new hero.

"Leave," Fry repeated.

Jack sighed heavily and sulked his way reluctantly back up the stairs, leaving them alone again.

Riddick cocked his head and gave Fry a little half-smile.

"Cute kid."

She forced herself into business mode again.

"You gonna tell me where Zeke is or not?"

Riddick looked at her silently for a moment before he answered.

"Did I kill a few people? Sure," he mused with a shrug. "Did I kill Zeke? No. Got the wrong killer."

Fry wasn't convinced.

"He's not in the hole," she said slowly and deliberately. "We looked."

"Look deeper."

A tense moment dragged by as they stood frozen in position, eyes locked. Fry's heart quickened, and she found herself wanting to get as close to Riddick as possible.

Her mind went off on a tangent, wondering how it would feel to touch him, to press her body against his. Heat flooded through her gut and pulsed between her legs as forbidden erotic images flashed through her consciousness. Jesus, he smelled good, even filthy and sweaty as he was.

Riddick tilted his head to the side like a curious bird, taking in Fry's slack lips and flushed face.

She wanted him, wanted him bad. He could see it, he could smell it. And he sure as hell wanted her. He had since the first time he'd sensed her presence.

What was it about her? Her scent, her voice, her ass?

Or something else, maybe...

"See somethin' ya like?" he murmured seductively, his gravelly voice cozying into her ear.

Fry blinked, jerking herself back from wherever her mind had wandered, and focused on Riddick's face again. She slowly raised her trembling hand and laid tentative fingertips against his damp cheek.

_I can't believe I'm doing this. I must be out of my mind._

Riddick stayed still and allowed her to trail her fingers lightly over the faint stubble of his beard. He studied her face, watching every subtle - and not-so-subtle - change in her expression. She looked ready to leap out of her skin.

Her hand continued its journey down his face, tracing his jawline and stretching out her thumb to move it gently across his lips. So soft and full and sensuous… this didn't seem like the mouth of a killer. Her breathing turned rapid and shallow as she imagined what that mouth would feel like on hers, on her body, on her –

Riddick's lips parted and his tongue darted out, flicking warmly against Fry's thumb.

She gasped and jerked her hand back a few inches, the liquid heat in her womb flaring up and knocking the breath out of her.

His mouth curved in the slightest of smiles - he was pleased with her reaction.

_Gotcha. You're mine now._

The sudden sound of footsteps across the upper floor broke their concentration - someone was about to come down.

Riddick glanced up, then quickly stepped backwards and sat down. As soon as he was seated, Johns pounded down the metal stairs, stopping halfway down to address Fry.

"Get anything helpful out of him?"

With an effort, Fry shook herself out of her erotic trance enough to answer.

"Yeah… I'll be right there."

"Okay."

Shooting a look at Riddick, Johns went back up to wait for her.

Fry backed away from Riddick towards the stairs.

_What the hell was I thinking?_

She knew full well he wouldn't let this go. He’d do something about it the first chance he got. She knew what that something would be. The only question was when and where. Reluctantly, she tore her eyes off him, turned and ran up the stairs.

He watched her go, a knowing smile on his face.

_See ya soon, Carolyn. We'll have us some fun._

He shifted a bit, trying without much success to reposition his hard-on. No matter - she'd be taking care of that soon enough. But for now, all he could do was wait.

He lowered his head, closed his eyes, and descended into fantasies of Carolyn, and what they would do when he finally got her alone.

 

 

They did what Riddick suggested - they looked deeper.

Or Fry did, at least - and found what was left of Zeke. The things down there almost got her, too. She had to struggle up out of the creature-infested cave through one of the many tall, hollow mud spires that clustered on the planet's surface.

Jack traced her screams for help, and they knocked a hole in the spire and pulled her out.

Johns cut the safety cable from her waist a split second before the creatures could yank her back down to join them for lunch.

Now he stood before the chained Riddick, faced with the task of - he couldn't believe this - apologizing to a convicted murderer for, well… accusing him of murder.

He wasn't at all pleased about it, and he meant to keep Riddick in his place at all costs.

"Finally found somethin' worse than me, huh?"

Riddick wore a smug smile as Johns stood in front of him, a pair of goggles dangling from one hand. He could smell the drugs in him.

_Clueless prick. Most dangerous one here, other'n those things. Most likely get everyone killed eventually._

_Uh-huh. Smile all you want, chucklehead,_ thought Johns. _You won't outlive your usefulness if I have anything to say about it._

"So here's the deal," Johns said aloud. "You work without chains, without bit, and without shivs. You do what I say, when I say it - "

Riddick looked up sharply, scoping Johns' face.

"For what?” he said sarcastically. "A long vacation in some toilet of a prison cell? Fuck you!"

Johns sighed wearily and shrugged.

"The truth is... I'm tired o' chasin' you."

Riddick's nostrils flared as he regarded Johns through narrowed eyes. He smelled bullshit. Big time.

"You sayin' you'd cut me loose?"

"I'm thinkin'… “Johns gave another shrug, “you coulda died in the crash."

Riddick held Johns' gaze. Or tried to - the guy couldn't look him in the eye. He was trying really hard to appear _aw-shucks_ honest, and doing a crappy job of it.

"My recommendation - do me," said Riddick, his voice a low, sinister growl now. "Don't take the chance that I'd get shiv-happy on your wannabe ass."

"Okay - " Johns whispered, nodding.

_Just gimme a reason, Riddick. Go on, push the fuckin' buttons._

"Ghost me, motherfucker,” said Riddick. ”That's what I would do to you."

Quick as a heartbeat, Johns whipped his gun up and fired a single shot in Riddick’s direction.

Riddick turned to the side, ready for the bullet slamming into his skull - but it never came.

Instead, he felt the chains on his arms go suddenly slack. He gave them a tug, and they came zipping noisily out of the many niches they'd been wound through to tumble into silvery coils on either side of him.

"I want you to remember this moment," Johns said, pointing a warning finger at him. "The way it coulda gone, and didn't."

_That'll teach 'im. Put a little fear o' God in 'im, keep 'im off our backs._

Johns extended the hand holding the goggles, offering them to Riddick.

"Here," he prompted, dangling them like a toy in front of a pet.

Riddick stared at him for a moment before standing up and lifting his hand to accept them. Johns had used that self-important "I'm-a-big-boy-and-you're-not" tone that made him want to puke.

_Fucker needs a crash course in jungle law._

Riddick’s hand inched closer to the goggles, his eyes flicking to the gun hanging at Johns' side. Before Johns could take another breath, he found himself at the business end of that gun, and Riddick at the other. The guy had moved too fast for him to see.

_Okay, prison boy wants to make me sweat. Gotta play it cool._

Johns slowly raised his hands in surrender. Thank God the spike he'd done earlier hadn't worn off yet. It helped him keep his voice low and even.

"We have a deal?"

"Fuck you!" Riddick spat out, shoving the gun closer to his throat.

_Oughtta ghost him right here. Bastard._

But Riddick had business to tend to, and killing Johns would make that difficult, if not impossible.

Decisions, decisions...

"We have a deal?" Johns repeated, finally looking Riddick steadily in the eye.

Riddick opened his mouth to speak, but stopped.

They'd all be better off without this useless, lying piece of shit. But then there was Carolyn...

This was a tough choice.

His mind flashed back to when she'd first touched him. No woman had ever just walked up to him and done that - not unless she was invited or coerced. Then the touching had been done with her nervous eyes always flicking back to his, seeking approval for every move, not daring to displease him.

But Carolyn had simply wanted to touch him, even though it was clearly against her better judgment. Because she wanted to. Because it pleased her.

He felt himself grow hard again, remembering her soft fingers on his face, the brief salty tang of her thumb on his tongue that sent delicious little shocks coursing through him. He knew without a doubt that if they'd had a few more moments alone, she would have kissed him. And he definitely would have kissed her back.

He had to taste her again, and much more thoroughly, even if he never made it off this rock.

It was decided. He fixed his narrowed eyes on Johns.

"I want you to remember this moment... "

He let that hang in the air for a while before he slammed the gun to the floor at Johns' feet, snatched the goggles from his raised hand and walked out.

Carolyn was waiting. She knew he'd follow up on their little conversation. He _knew_ she knew.

Riddick smiled to himself as he made his way out of the crash ship. It was fun, imagining what might be running through her head right now.

She was probably telling herself what an idiot she was for getting herself into this situation, and trying to figure a way out of it. (He had a feeling, though, that she wasn't trying _too_ hard.)

Well, he wasn't giving her a choice in the matter - as if she'd ever had one. If she hadn't made the first move, then he would have.

Riddick bit back a delighted grin. Soon enough, he would have her exactly where he wanted her. The thought of Carolyn Fry under his control was exciting… very exciting indeed. This was one conquest he would truly savor.

 

 

He had plenty of time to ponder things on the long, hot trek to the deserted settlement the others had found earlier. He trailed behind them, dragging a makeshift sled full of supplies.

Plenty of time to watch Carolyn as she walked ahead beside Imam. Plenty of time to memorize every curve of her ass in those snug black pants. Plenty of time to think of things he could do to her (or have her do to him) once they were alone. He knew she'd try to prevent that from happening, but he'd find a way. He always did.

Something bothered him, though - why only one power cell? They could have taken them all on this trip. He had a sneaking suspicion Johns had something to do with that.

_Fuckin' figures. Count on Johns to screw things up for everyone._

Oh well, not much he could do about it at the moment. Might as well go back to drooling over Carolyn's fine backside. Damn good way to pass the time, in his book.

Once they reached the settlement, Riddick dropped his load without a word and wandered off.

Fry had mixed feelings about that. She knew he was biding his time, waiting to catch her alone and pounce on her, and that was frightening enough.

What frightened her more was the fact that she was actually looking forward to it. The mere thought of being alone with him again made her heart beat faster, and not just with fear.

_Jesus, Carolyn, you really have lost your marbles this time._

Fry silently lectured herself as she made her way to the settlement's mess hall to join the others.

_So he turns you on - that's no excuse for what you did. Now look at the mess you're in._

She found everyone standing around a dusty table laden with water-filled crystal goblets (courtesy of Paris P. Ogilvie, antiquities dealer and entrepreneur, thankyouverymuch).

Well, almost everyone. Riddick was conspicuously missing.

Fry gave Johns an urgent look, indicating the door with her eyes. Quickly scanning the room, he noticed Riddick's absence, and left immediately to find him. A few minutes later, they returned together.

Riddick sauntered casually to the table, took a glass of water and retreated to the other side of the room to drink it. He sipped a little, then removed his goggles to wipe the sweat from his eyes.

_All the better to see you with, my dear,_ he leered inwardly, raising his glass to drink again as he fixed his hungry gaze on Carolyn.

He was pleased to see her eyes wander over to him once in a while when she thought he wasn't watching, then dart away when she saw him staring brazenly back at her.

_Oh yeah... this is gonna be a piece o' cake._

The door opened again, and everyone was shocked to see Jack walk in - minus his cap of short brown hair. He'd apparently found a razor somewhere in the settlement and shaved his head to match Riddick's, adding a pair of dirty, cast-off goggles for full effect.

There were raised eyebrows and exchanged glances all around as he approached the table and picked up a glass of water, pulling the goggles up to rest on his forehead. He started to take a drink, and suddenly noticed everyone staring.

"What?" he asked defensively, glaring defiantly at the surprised faces.

"It's the winner of the look-alike contest," said Paris, with a nervous little laugh.

_Whaddaya know,_ thought Riddick. _The Richard Riddick Fan Club. How 'bout that._

He finished off his water, smiling slightly and shaking his head in amusement.

_Look, Ma - I'm a role model._

That one almost made him laugh out loud.

Paris walked over to join Shazza at a smaller table, where she was examining a box full of rock samples.

"Who were these people anyway, miners?" he asked, peering into the box.

"They look like geologists," she answered, holding up a pair of tongs in which a whitish rock was firmly clamped. "Y'know - advance team, moves around from rock to rock?"

"Why'd they leave so much stuff here?" mused Fry, biting her lip as she thought. "Why'd they leave their ship?"

Riddick aimed an approving glance in Fry's direction.

_Nice to know I ain't the only one with half a fuckin' clue._

"It's not a ship," said Johns. "It's a skiff, and it's disposable, really."

"More like an emergency life raft, right?" Paris piped up from beside the small table full of rocks.

"Yeah," Shazza agreed. "They probably had a big drop ship take 'em off-planet."

Riddick shook his head in annoyance.

"These people didn't leave, c'mon," he said. "Whatever got Zeke got them. They're all dead."

He looked around at the ring of uneasy faces. They didn't want to hear this. Well, too fuckin' bad.

"You don't really think they left with their clothes on the hooks, photos on the shelves?"

Shazza spoke up, casting her eyes about, her voice a touch desperate.

"Maybe they had weight limits. You don't know."

Riddick stared right at her.

"I know you don't prep your emergency ship unless there's a fuckin' emergency."

Shazza looked down, a chastened expression on her face.

"He's fuckin' right," Jack said emphatically from his seat next to Johns.

Johns turned to frown disapprovingly at the boy.

"Watch your mouth," he said in that self-righteous tone Riddick hated.

Fry had sat silently through the pointless debate. She knew Riddick was right - it was all so obvious. These people simply didn't want to face it.

"Hey, he's just sayin' what we're all thinkin'," she said quietly, her face heavy with resignation.

Riddick's eyebrows lifted just a bit in mild surprise.

_Well, well… score one for Team Riddick, point by Fry._

Fry turned towards him with a determined stare.

"So what happened? Where are they?"

Riddick opened his mouth to answer, but before he could speak, Imam burst into the room, his face a mask of fear.

"Has anyone seen the little one?" he shouted. "Ali!" he darted around the room, searching for his lost son.

"Has anyone checked the coring room?" Riddick asked quietly.


End file.
